City of Mages

Chapter 20: Alara

Alara unconsciously ran a hand along her scarred face, waiting for Quenti to say something. The silence between them stretched on as Alara felt the hard bark of the tree digging into her back. She was no longer looking at Quenti, unsure of what she'd see, dreading the looks of pity or fear this story could bring with it.

Then again, she wasn't sure how one responded to the "I killed Mama and a bunch of children with my magia" story.

"No snide remarks?" Alara said.

"Is that what you expect from me?" Quenti's voice was soft. Softer than Alara had heard before.

She winced—there was the pity.

"The Haven isn't some evil entity trying to suppress me. They've protected me, helped me gain control and learn not to hurt myself or others. The magia we all wield is wonderful, but it also has the capacity to hurt and kill." Alara took a deep breath. Her heart was beating hard in her chest. "I don't know how many people I killed that day. I can't lose control again."

Quenti was silent for a moment. "There's a fine line between controlling your magia and suppressing it."

Alara pushed herself off of the tree she had been leaning against and shook her head. "Maybe, but I'd rather suppress my magia than lose control again."

Quenti didn't respond to this. The two of them resumed their slow trudge through the forest in silence. Alara's heart still pounding, she felt a tinge of regret for having told Quenti her secret. That's what it had become. Alara had learned when she was much younger not to discuss her past. Adelmo and Emaru were the only ones close to her that knew the story.

"You know it wasn't your fault, right?" Quenti's voice startled Alara, and it took her a moment to register her words. "When I discovered my magia, I screwed up plenty. I almost got Mama and me caught even after I gained more control. I hate to agree with Emaru, but if you practiced and trained, you could be amazing."

"Or terrible."

To Alara's surprise, Quenti nodded at this. "Couldn't anyone, though, powers or not?"

Alara chewed on her lip. That was the closest to an apology she'd get from Quenti.

They trudged on, neither looking at each other nor speaking, the sun inching across the sky, sending light dancing through the trees. But the silence seemed less heavy than it had before. For a few moments, Alara even appreciated the whistle of the warm breeze and rustling of wildlife in the branches above them. She rarely had the chance to appreciate the sounds of nature in the forest. More often than not, she was hunting bruyas or trying to control her magia.

The anxiety that Alara didn't even realize was there unfurled itself in her gut as they walked, and she allowed herself to be lulled by the forest ambience. The air felt thinner today, and the shade seemed a few degrees cooler as she passed between pockets of sunshine. Yet, her feet still ached which each step, taking her farther from home. She thought of Adelmo and his stable full of l'lamagas and imagined herself slumped in the saddle of one, breathing in the musty scent of animal. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't register the lengthening shadows until Quenti stopped them in another small clearing.

Alara foraged through the forest nearby to feel useful while Quenti marched down to the river to fish. She found a few lucumas hanging low on a nearby tree. The fruit's flesh was a verdant green, and they were large and heavy in her hands.

Dinner was subdued, their conversation quiet and stilted, neither speaking about the revelations that Alara made earlier.

In fact, the next few days passed much the same, in almost companionable silence. Occasionally, one or the other would make a mundane comment about the surroundings—"Look, there's a condor up there" or "That tree trunk is huge"—but never anything important or meaningful. As if neither wanted to open the door for argument.